


a thousand different ways we fell apart

by The_Eclectic_Bookworm



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Dimension Travel, F/M, Multiple Universes, spoilers for the reboot comics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 17:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20567795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Eclectic_Bookworm/pseuds/The_Eclectic_Bookworm
Summary: An innovative space traveler from the far future uses her newest invention to try and figure out where her relationship with her husband went wrong.A lesson is learned, an answer found, but it's not the one she was expecting.





	a thousand different ways we fell apart

_—beep._

“You’re not serious,” said Jenny, voice ramping up, slamming the envelope down onto the kitchen table. _“Divorce papers? _You’re not _serious—”_

“—given that we haven’t lived in the same house for a good few months, I think it’s safe to say I am,” Giles shot back, eyes flashing as he leaned across the table to face her. “And given that you _continue _to pretend that there is nothing wrong with our marriage—”

“Nothing _is _wrong!”

_“If nothing was wrong, you wouldn’t be sleeping on your cousin’s couch!”_

“For your information, Mari has a _guest bedroom,_” snapped Jenny.

“That’s not the point,” said Giles. He looked old, and tired, like they’d been having these kinds of circular arguments for longer than just a few months. “Jenny, something has broken in our marriage. I think I wanted to fix it, at first, but you’ve made it clear that you have no interest in putting in the time and the work required to do so.”

“Don’t you pin this all on me,” said Jenny. “Don’t you dare—”

“Divorce papers shouldn’t be what it takes to get you to talk to me,” said Giles. “That’s not the way a marriage should work. I shouldn’t have to set the whole bloody thing on fire for you to acknowledge my existence.” His lips were pursed as he looked at her. “This isn’t working,” he said. “You know it’s not working. You can’t ignore that.”

_no, _thought Jay, and pressed the button.

* * *

_—beep._

“My lady Calendar,” said the knight, and took off his helmet, looking up at the woman in red. “You and I both know that this can never be.”

Lady Calendar drew in a soft, pained breath. “Good sir,” she said, “I ask that you explain your reasoning. I have confessed my love, I have pledged my undying loyalty—”

“Your loyalty should not belong with me,” said Sir Giles. “As the chief advisor to the Princess, your loyalty belongs to your country. A dalliance with a lowly knight—”

“Oh, fuck this,” said Lady Calendar. “Don’t you dare sell yourself short like that, Sir Giles. The Princess trusts you just as much—if not _more—_than she trusts me. The kingdom could only _benefit _from any kind of union on our part—”

“I have no interest in an impermanent, selfish connection,” said Sir Giles coolly.

Lady Calendar looked _deeply _insulted. “Is that what you believe marriage to me would be?”

The carefully guarded expression on Sir Giles’s face slipped. “M-marriage?”

“Yes, _marriage,_” said Lady Calendar indignantly, “unless you thought I was speaking only of pursuing my desire for you, with no intent of sharing our vows and our love.” At the abashed look on Sir Giles’s face, her expression changed as well. “You didn’t think—”

“I am sorry,” said Sir Giles. “Only that—you’ve been known to take lovers.”

“You think _that _little of me?” said Lady Calendar, looking—not angry, no, _hurt. _“We’ve known each other for years. We’re _friends. _You think I would tell you I love you simply to get you into my bed?”

Sir Giles looked away. “I’ve—made a mistake,” he said jerkily. “Jenny—”

“No,” said Lady Calendar. There was a choked sob in her voice. “No, I—” Covering her face for a moment, she let out a small, terrible noise, then looked up again. “It’s clearly me who’s made the mistake,” she said. “Giving my heart to one who thinks so little of me. Trusting someone who doesn’t believe in me.”

“Jenny, please, I—”

“This was a mistake,” said Lady Calendar. “Please, Sir Giles, forget I said anything.”

“Jenny, I’ve loved you for _years,” _said Sir Giles desperately. “I don’t understand how I could have ruined this before it even began. I only meant—I never thought—”

_no, _thought Jay, staring at the lost, heartbroken expression on her own face, and pressed the button.

* * *

_—beep._

“Jesus, thanks a _lot!” _snapped Janna, punching Ripper very hard in the arm. “Now Staci thinks I’m a total freak! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with _me?” _Ripper demanded. _“Me? _I’m not the one _throwing _myself at the nearest available girl every time I go out on a friendly outing with my friend!”

“Oh,” said Janna, turning with a sharp, unsympathetic smile to fully look at Ripper. “Is that what this is?”

“Wh-what?”

“Is this because you’re into me?”

“Janna—”

“Because that’s pretty sleazy of you,” said Janna, “y’know, considering the age difference—”

“_Age difference,” _scoffed Ripper, coloring, “I’m nineteen and you’re eighteen, that’s not—”

“So you are,” said Janna.

“Wh—I never said—”

“It’d explain why you’re such a possessive jackass every time we go out clubbing,” said Janna, circling Ripper like a shark, “and why you get all sulky every time I find someone cute to take home, and why you haven’t dated anyone in _forever.” _She tapped her finger against her chin. “It’s not exactly a point in your favor, Ripper, you being into me. You know me better than anyone.”

“Oh?” said Ripper. His breathing was shallow, his eyes fixed on Jenny as though he _wanted _to get out of this situation but couldn’t figure out how.

“You know I’d never go for someone as fucked-up and boring as you,” said Janna. “You’re loyal, and you’re fun to make out with drunk, and that’s about it.” She shrugged, and turned, completely missing the utterly shattered look on Ripper’s face. But it was a double-edged sword, because with her back to him, he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

_what the FUCK, _thought Jay, _it is SO lucky I didn’t meet him when we were in college, _and pressed the button.

* * *

_—beep._

“We’re going under,” said Giles bleakly.

“Huh?” said Jenny, looking up.

“We’re going under,” said Giles again, sliding the piece of paper across the table. “Barnes & Noble is running us out of town. I knew we’d take a hit when they took the shop next to us, I knew our selection was significantly smaller, but—”

“It’s okay,” said Jenny, giving him a small, lopsided smile, and reached across the table for Giles’s hand. “It’s—I mean, look, it’s not _ideal, _sure, but we pull through. We’ve got each other.”

Giles looked down at her hand, then up at Jenny. “Yes,” he said, almost warily. “Yes. I can certainly say that your partnership in this venture has been…helpful. Extremely so.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” said Jenny.

“Jenny—”

“Look, Rupert, I know the timing’s bad,” Jenny continued, face flushed, voice awkwardly loud, “but…we’ve been running Underlined Books for a really long time, and it’s always been together. And I—”

“Jenny, I’m married,” said Giles, moving his hand away from hers and staring bleakly down at the table. “You know that.”

“Yes,” said Jenny. “I’m not a fan of your husband.”

“You’ve made that clear,” said Giles. His face had twisted a little. “This is a moment of weakness, for me,” he said. “It would be quite easy for you to…take advantage.”

“I’d never—”

“I’m asking,” said Giles.

Jenny drew in a soft breath. “Rupert, that’s not what I want,” she said. “I’m bringing this up because—”

“Because the bookstore’s going under,” said Giles, looking directly up at her. “Because, quite frankly, my marriage is going under at well. Because my entire life is falling apart in front of me, and you just happen to be the one stable part of it, so why don’t we just make sure I don’t have _anything _left that’s worth keeping?”

“Rupert—”

“Kiss me, then,” said Giles acidly. “We can fuck in the storeroom, if you like. I’m sure that’ll be _titillating _enough for you, sleeping with a married man—isn’t that what you want, Jenny? Isn’t that why you’re choosing the _worst _time possible to hit on me?”

Jenny looked like someone had punched her in the stomach. Eyes full of tears, she stood up, leaving the room.

Giles was left by himself. He took off his glasses, tried to clean them with shaking hands, then _threw _them down on the floor, burying his face in his hands and beginning to sob.

Jay wanted to reach for him. But.

_no, _she thought, and pressed the button.

* * *

_—beep._

“Oh, that is so not ideal,” said Ripper, looking down at the giant hole carved out of the front of the boat. “Fucking cannonballs.”

“Yes, thank you for that,” said Captain Jaybird, giving her first mate an irritable look. “Doesn’t really help to be pessimistic in the middle of a fight with the British Navy, though, does it?”

“Captain?” said Ripper. _“Half the boat is on fire.”_

“CHARGE,” shouted Captain Jaybird, raising her sword and running into the fray.

Ripper tilted his head back. “God,” he said, “I was _Sir Rupert Giles, _I had a _title, _I had _land,_why the _hell _did I get myself seduced by a pirate queen?” Then he picked up his own sword—and stopped. Looked around the boat. Half the crew was cut down (_Jay’s heart lurched, she didn’t know how many more of these worlds she could take) _and the boat seemed all but soaked in blood—the blood of their enemies, yes, but also of their friends.

Captain Jaybird was cutting her way through the British Navy, dark hair spilling out from under her cap.

Ripper put down his sword. He walked, quietly, to the line of rope strung between the two ships, facing the British Navy. He pulled himself up and over and across, until he was standing on the dock of a ship that he recognized. He’d had a title, yes, and land, but he’d also been an esteemed member of the Navy, once upon a time.

“Take me as hostage,” he said. “She’ll stop the battle if she believes me hurt or dead.”

“We’ll do you one better, dog,” growled a sailor, pulling out his sword and

_NO _screamed Jay and she _SLAMMED _the button.

* * *

_—beep._

“You fucking—you’d have let her DIE,” screamed Jenny. “You stood there and WATCHED as Spike KILLED her—”

“Spike didn’t kill her,” said Giles hollowly. “And the world’s ending anyway, so it’s a moot point, isn’t it?”

_“You look at me, you asshole,” _hissed Jenny, gripping the front of Giles’s nice black suit. They were bruised, battered from the fight, and traces of grime and ash lingered on their faces and hands. “Spike and Drusilla won the very _second _they walked into that museum. They would have killed everyone in there until they got what they wanted. They would have found the dagger on your corpse. There was no winning. You were about to condemn that entire museum to death—”

“Whatever it takes to delay the inevitable is better than surrendering,” said Giles flatly. “And that’s what you did, isn’t it? You surrendered. You gave up. Drusilla was right, in the end.”

“Oh, so now we’re listening to the homicidal vampire?” shouted Jenny. “Well, news flash, Rupert, I make my choices based on my _intuition, _not years of antiquated, soulless Watcher rituals! You would have let Buffy’s mother _die _in front of you for the sake of a world that was already doomed—”

“How is it,” said Giles, “that I’m the murderer and the idealist at the same time? Frankly, I think you’re just trying to justify the fact that you don’t know a thing about the supernatural.”

“I can’t,” said Jenny, her voice breaking, “I can’t look at you right now, Rupert.”

Something in Giles’s face changed. “Jenny—”

Jenny turned, black dress swishing out, and walked away.

_WAIT, _shouted Jay, but no one heard her. _PLEASE. DON’T—_

Giles turned, looking towards her, and it shouldn’t have been possible—all her tests said that no one could see Jay when she traveled—but— _“Jenny?” _he said, sounding _deeply _bewildered. “What—”

Jay pressed the button.

* * *

_—beep. _

It was quiet.

This was new. Every world Jay had visited, every different time and place she’d seen, there had been words thrown back and forth—angry, hurt, playful. The cacophony of emotion was what powered her machine: she’d programmed it to draw her to places in time that felt the way she was feeling right now. Lost, and hurt, and missing the man she loved.

It was quiet, the sky dark outside the library, the moonlight shining in through the window and illuminating a single figure. He was sitting at the table in the middle of the room, looking older and more tired than all the iterations of him she’d seen before. This was a man who had been alone for a long time, Jay thought.

“Jenny?” said Rupert.

Jay blinked. _Can you see me?_

“Interesting question,” said Rupert. “Also, interesting outfit. You look as though you’ve stepped out of a sci-fi movie.”

_I’m not from here, exactly, _said Jay.

“I gathered,” said Rupert. “The woman I knew wore her hair a bit less, ah…” He trailed off, then did a few complex twists around his head that Jay assumed was supposed to capture her zigzagging, lightning-bolt pigtails. “The makeup is a nice touch.”

_Thank you, _said Jay, feeling strangely off-balance. This wasn’t usual. _Has my machine malfunctioned? You’re not supposed to be able to see me._

“No,” said Rupert, “I don’t think I am. I’m just…” He trailed off. “Looking for you,” he said. “Everywhere.”

Jay smiled, a little bitterly, and sat down at the table. _Me too._

“How did you lose him?”

Jay shook her head. _You first._

“Why—” Off of Jay’s look, Rupert rolled his eyes. “Infuriatingly stubborn in every iteration,” he said, but he said it with that old warmth that Rip lacked now. “Fine.” He hesitated, drawing in a small, tired breath, then said, “Jenny Calendar was killed by a vampire, and that vampire set up a romantic little tableau in my home. I entered my bedroom, and found her body as the centerpiece.”

_Jesus, _said Jay, her stomach turning over. Some of the worlds she’d seen had been fucked up, sure, but none quite as terrible as _that._

“Now you,” said Rupert.

Jay hesitated, biting her lip. _I don’t know, _she said. _I don’t know what went wrong. I’ve looked at it from every scientific angle, used every machine I’ve ever made, thrown myself into my research to try and fix it, but… _She trailed off.

“But?” prompted Rupert.

Jay thought about that tired, distant look on Rip’s face. _I don’t think he loves me anymore, _she said. _I don’t know how to fix that._

Rupert stared at her for a long few seconds, long enough that Jay began to feel like she’d said something stupid without thinking. Then, slowly, incredulously, he said, “I’m sorry. You’re telling me that your—whatever he is—is still _alive?”_

_What do you mean?_

“My Jenny is _dead,_” said Rupert. His voice broke. “There’s no coming back from that. I am never going to get to tell her how much I love her, or how much I miss her, or how sorry I am for what I put her through.”

_So what, are you saying that if he’s alive, there’s a chance? _scoffed Jay. _Bullshit. I’ve been to a thousand worlds. I’ve seen a thousand different ways our relationship fell apart—_

“Have you?” said Rupert.

_What?_

“Did you stay around long enough to really see it happen?” Rupert was looking directly at her, eyes locked on hers, as though what he was trying to tell her couldn’t be conveyed through words alone. “Did you ever hear them say they never wanted to see each other again? Or were you only looking for the failures?”

_My machine is powered by the way I’m feeling, _said Jay. _It goes to places that match that helplessness and sadness and—_

“Well, therein lies the problem,” said Rupert, an exasperated laugh in his voice. “You’re _already expecting _things to end in disaster and despair.”

_I don’t know what to do! _Jay sobbed out. _It’s so easy for you to talk about how much better it would be—you’ve hit rock bottom. There’s nothing worse than death. I still have a chance, I _know _that__—every world I saw still had a _chance. _But I don’t know how to use that chance to actually make something work._

“Honesty is a good place to start,” said Rupert.

_What, _scoffed Jay, _telling him I love him? I tried that. It doesn’t work._

“That’s not what I mean,” said Rupert. “Love only goes so far. You have to put the work in. You have to understand the other person and what they want. Do you know what he wants?”

_No—!_

“Then _ask,” _said Rupert, and reached out, pressing the button on Jay’s bracelet. She felt his hand around her wrist for just a moment—fingers curled, grip tight, as though he almost couldn’t bring himself to let go of _any _Jenny Calendar—and then—

* * *

_—beep. _

“Jesus,” sobbed Janna, doubled over outside the café. “Jesus fucking Christ oh god I’m so _stupid _I can’t believe I _said _that to him I can’t believe I _did _that to him—”

“All right, calm down, genius girl,” said Anya, leaning against the wall next to her. “Yeah, you dug your own grave a little bit. So what? Tell him the truth.”

“The _truth?” _Janna pulled herself up, scrubbing at her face, and glared fiercely at Anya. “The truth is that I’m a total idiot and the _second _I insulted him I _knew _I didn’t mean it! And now he hasn’t talked to me in _weeks _and I am _so scared _that he’s done something stupid, because I _knew _he was into me, I just, I didn’t realize he _cared _about me, he’s into all kinds of people all the time I just thought he wanted to have sex with me and then ditch me—”

“So tell him _that,” _said Anya.

“But he’ll be so _mad!”_

“I think he’s kind of already pretty mad, Janna,” Anya pointed out. Janna drew in a sobbing breath, pulling out her phone with shaking hands. “Is he taking your calls?”

“I don’t know,” said Janna. “I haven’t tried to call him.”

“You _haven’t tried—”_

Janna held up a hand. “Ripper?” she said. Her voice caught, and she started to cry again. “I’m _so-o-o _sorry, I didn’t mean _any _of that stupid shit I said, I j-just—I thought you were just getting all jealous like you do with all those people you bring around a-and it made me feel like you were looking at me like _I _was one of those people you bring around and i-if that’s true then I thought you were just gearing up to fuck me and ditch me like you did with Olivia or with Ethan and I can’t—”

There was a _screech _of tires. Still on the phone, Ripper hopped out of the car, face pale. “Janna, you’re crying,” he said. “What’s up with that?”

Janna dropped the phone and _flung _herself at Ripper.

“You two need some _serious _help,” said Anya. “Jesus.” She finished her cigarette, dropping it to the pavement and stubbing it out with the heel of her shoe.

Jay watched the kids hug and cry, feeling incredibly strange. After a moment of consideration, she pushed the button again.

* * *

_—beep._

“Jenny?”

Jenny had very clearly been crying. She turned towards Giles as he stepped into the storeroom. “Oh,” she said acidly. “So you really are up for that makeout session, huh?”

“Jenny, I—” Giles swallowed. “I’m sorry. I was…I was unnecessarily cruel.”

“Yeah,” said Jenny. “You were.”

“Is there any way—”

“Stop,” said Jenny. “Seriously, Rupert, just…” She trailed off with a tired sigh, running a hand through her hair, and leaned against the brick wall. “You were right, y’know?” she said. “Your entire life is kind of on fire right now. Now is literally the worst time for me to tell you how I feel about you.”

“How _do _you feel about me?” said Giles tentatively.

Jenny turned her head to fix him with an exasperated look. “It doesn’t matter—”

“It does,” said Giles. “To me it does.”

“Rupert, you and your husband are splitting up,” said Jenny. “And this bookstore really _is _gonna go under. There’s no way you’re equipped right now for _any _kind of a romantic connection, superficial or—” She ducked her head, swallowing, “or someone who’s in love with you.”

“Oh,” said Giles. He looked utterly miserable. “So when I was accusing you of being interested in seducing a married man—”

“That’s not the appeal,” said Jenny. She went back to looking at the books. “There’s no appeal to it, Rupert. I don’t like the situation I’m in right now. I wouldn’t like you less if you were unmarried, or more if your marriage was actually one that made you happy—I just like _you. _I like being around you.”

Giles leaned back against the wall too, staring at the books as though they might hold some magical solution to all of his problems. “So what now?” he said.

“I really don’t know,” said Jenny. “I don’t think I want a relationship with a guy who would go for the jugular and insult me just to make himself feel better. I don’t even know if you have feelings for me beyond—”

Giles looked down, and said, “I might.”

The ghost of a smile flitted across Jenny’s face. “That’s nice,” she said. “But my point still stands. You need to go home, and figure stuff out with your husband, and start looking at career options beyond this bookstore. I can help you with that last one, if you want, but _only _in a professional context, okay?”

“Can we…” Giles turned his head, giving her a small grin. “Bookmark this talk?”

“God, you’re awful,” said Jenny. She still looked tired and sad, but her smile was beginning to reach her eyes.

“I mean it,” said Giles. “When things are a little better—”

“If,” said Jenny.

Giles hesitated, then nodded. “If,” he agreed. “If things are a little better.”

“If things are a little better,” Jenny echoed, “after a while, I…wouldn’t mind being asked out to dinner.”

“I’m sorry,” said Giles, an incredulous laugh in his voice, “am _I _the one who’s supposed to make the first move?”

“The fact that we’re having this conversation at _all _is due to me, so, yes,” said Jenny, grinning up at him. This smile _didn’t _reach her eyes. “Besides which, Rupert, I’m really not the kind of person to pursue a married man.”

“Soon-to-be-unmarried,” said Giles.

“Still,” said Jenny.

Giles hesitated, then reached out, carefully taking Jenny’s hand and lacing his fingers through hers. At her surprised look, he said, “Well, this counts as a first move, doesn’t it? Now _you’re _the one who has to ask _me _out.”

“Cute,” said Jenny. “You’re gonna be waiting a long time, then.”

It wasn’t fixed, Jay thought, not by a long shot. There wasn’t any guarantee of it being fixed in the future. But the bridge hadn’t been burned—not after they’d been honest with each other.

_Honesty is a good place to start._

Jay pushed the button again, and—

* * *

_—beep._

“I never thought you might return my feelings,” Sir Giles continued helplessly. “Not once did I consider that I might hold the same value in your heart as you do mine. I am a luckless knight, my lady, no matter my skill in battle or my experience in military tactics, and you—you are a woman who could have any member of this court to marry, if she so chose. Far more plausible that you seek out a friend for a few weeks of comfort and entertainment than that the woman I love—the woman I have loved, in silence, for near ten years—would love me back with such devotion and loyalty.”

Lady Calendar’s eyes were very wide. The hurt was fading.

“I turned you down only to protect my own heart from further injury, my lady,” said Sir Giles miserably. “I loved you—I _love _you—far too much to be satisfied with anything less than marriage. I know I have ruined your honest declaration, and for that I am deeply sorry. I only hope that you understand the high esteem I hold you in, and leave this room knowing that I have never thought ill of you—only of myself. I—”

Lady Calendar moved forward, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him.

Sir Giles fell over. Jay had to press her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing aloud, especially at Lady Calendar’s unskilled attempts to divest him of the armor that had thrown him off balance. “Oh, this _fool _breastplate,” Lady Calendar was saying, “_must _it keep me from my betrothed—”

Sir Giles froze. “Did you just say…betrothed?”

Lady Calendar raised her eyes to his, looking _deeply _self-satisfied.

_You noticed that, huh? _said Jay, cracking a smile. Something warm and happy was fluttering in her chest as she watched Sir Giles and Lady Calendar kiss again. She pressed the button.

* * *

_—beep._

“I _KNOW!”_

Giles reeled back.

“I know it isn’t working,” Jenny sobbed. “I know it hasn’t been working for a long time. I don’t know what to do! You’re always the one who comforts me and fixes things and makes stuff better and how fucking _badly _have I screwed up if the _one _person in my life who _always _makes it better says that I’m too much to handle? _Please, _Rupert, please give me another chance, I’ll go to marriage counseling, I’ll do _anything—_”

But Jay was watching differently, now, thinking about what Rupert had said in that spooky old library. _You have to understand the other person and what they want. _And this Jenny was thinking about herself—not about the tired look in this Giles’s eyes. She was thinking about the easy fix.

“I can’t,” said Giles softly. “I’ve tried so hard to reach you, Jenny. This shouldn’t be what brings us back together.”

“Oh, _fuck _your arbitrary notions of what a marriage should and shouldn’t be!” shouted Jenny, and stormed out of the apartment without looking back.

That wasn’t right, Jay realized. That wasn’t fair. He had been asking for her to _listen _to him, and the divorce papers were his way of giving up. If Jenny had understood that—well, if Jenny had understood that, then there probably wouldn’t be any divorce papers on that table at all.

_You’re making the right choice, _she said. She didn’t know if this Giles could hear her, but she wanted to say it anyway. _She’s not gonna change._

Jay could, though.

* * *

_Beep._

And then Jay was standing in the living room again. Rip was still standing in the middle of the room, so she hadn’t been gone _that _long, but she’d clearly been gone long enough for him to figure out what she’d been doing. “More fucking data?” he said acidly. “More searching through other versions of us for an answer you’re not even _trying _to find yourself? You can’t cheat-code your way out of this, Jay, that’s not the way life works—”

“I know,” said Jay.

Rip stopped. He looked at her more carefully, then. “What?”

“I know,” said Jay again, looking steadily up at him. She smiled a little wryly. “I mean, you were kind of wrong. I did find an answer this time around.”

“Oh, _sure,” _said Rip derisively. “What is it, then?”

Jay bit her lip, then said, “I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I have no clue,” said Jay, and she felt as though something unfurled within her at the way Rip’s eyes widened, then softened, because now he was looking at her like she was his _wife _and oh god she had done it, she had figured it out— “There’s no formula for this,” she said. “There’s no perfect scenario, and there’s no disaster timeline. I _can’t _cheat-code my way out of this.” She hesitated—they hadn’t touched in a very long time, not since they’d started fighting—but she fought the fear down, and took his hands in hers. “I love you,” she said. “I want to make this work. I’m so scared that I won’t.”

“You’ve been running away,” said Rip. His voice caught. “It feels as though you’re not even trying.”

“All I’ve been doing is trying,” said Jay. “Every single moment of every single day. I’m just…” She trailed off, laughing wetly. “I am just really, _really _bad at it, Rip. I’m terrible. I don’t know what I’m doing. But I haven’t been listening to you enough—I at least know _that _much—so can we sit down? And talk? And work this out?”

Rip looked at her for a long, honestly terrifying moment. Then he leaned forward, bumping his forehead against hers, the way he’d done on their wedding day. “How were those timelines, then?” he asked softly. “See anything interesting?”

“I had a really nice conversation with a really smart guy,” said Jay.

“Was he prettier than me?”

“By a long shot,” said Jay. “Hot librarian from the 1990s—you know I have a thing for that.”

“Should I rustle up some vintage tweed?”

Jay laughed, and laughed, and cuddled into her husband’s arms. Nestled against him, she undid the bracelet from her wrist, letting it fall to the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes u get an Idea For No Reason and then u write it down. also for no reason.
> 
> see also: self-indulgence, a love letter to aus, me wanting to write jenny-the-emotionally-challenged-time-and-space-traveler.


End file.
